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I look at the contacts in the phone, trying to distract myself. They’ve been prefilled—Niall, Ana, Liam, and someone named Clarke who I assume is the driver. The driver who, according to Niall, will be here soon—so I need to get ready.
It at least gives me something to do, some kind of forward motion to try to make me feel less as if everything is crumbling around me.
There’s two dresses hanging up, a pair of flats, and a couple of pairs of jeans folded on a shelf, with a few tops hanging up as well. I reach for one of the pairs of jeans—dark skinny jeans that surprisingly fit me exactly right, and throw on one of the tops, a soft pink sleeveless blouse that’s a little big, but otherwise looks nice enough.
I find some basic toiletries in the bathroom, and I splash some water on my face, glancing at myself in the mirror. Everything in here, just like the rest of the house, feels so new and shiny that it doesn’t feel as if it can possibly be mine.
I finish getting ready just in time to get a text from Clarke, the driver, that he’s here and waiting for me. I glance once more in the mirror, seeing my reflection like I’m looking at someone else—a pretty, tired, woman in a strange apartment in clothes that don’t belong to her, her eyes full of sadness.
I feel so off-kilter here, like I’ve fallen into a story that isn’t mine. This is a new city, new people, all of it and them strangers to me, and yet they’re taking care of me. I want to cling to Niall like a life raft, but he seems to want the exact opposite. He’s trying to put as much distance between us as possible.
The driver is standing dutifully outside the passenger door when I walk out, a tall middle-aged man with a stern bearing and greying hair who looks more like a bodyguard than a driver. I can’t help but wonder if he’s both in one.
“Mrs. Flanagan.” He nods as he opens the door for me, and I feel a welling of mingled emotion at hearing myself called that. A momentary flare of happiness, the thoughtyes, that’s me, I’m Niall’swife, and then the aftershock, the reminder that it’s only temporary. That it doesn’t actually mean what I want it to.
I slide into the warm leather interior of the car. This, I’m used to. It reminds me of home, of sitting in the back of the bulletproof SUVs that would take me and my mother and Elena if we wanted to go somewhere. It grounds me a little, but it also brings another wave of loneliness.
I miss my family. I miss Elena most of all, my best friend and closest companion in the whole world, but I miss my parents too. They had their faults, and we didn’t always agree, but they were still my family. I’d wanted freedom from their constraints and adventure so badly, but this doesn’t feel like freedom, not really.
It just feels like a new type of cage.
I watch the city slide by as the driver winds through the grey streets. It’s fairly quiet at this time of the morning, everyone probably at work already, so there’s not much traffic on the streets or the sidewalks.This is my new home,I tell myself over and over again, trying to find things that I like about it. Niall had tried to reassure me that it’s not always this cloudy and gloomy, that there’s plenty of sunny, bright, warm days. I just came at a bad time. But it’s still all concrete and huge buildings, and I miss the desert heat, the warm dusty breeze, even the dry, oven-like air of summer, the days that started out hot and turned cool in the evenings. I miss all of it.
I wonder how long it will take Boston to feel like home—if it ever will.
We leave the city behind after a little while, driving out into the outskirts of it, where there’s huge houses in styles I’ve never seen before. They’re all grand and beautifully designed, nestled on green lawns with huge trees dotting them. I like this better than the never-ending concrete and glass of the city, and I relax a little, enjoying the scenery until we reach a long hidden drive that the car turns onto, slowly making its way down the twisting path flanked by trees for what feels like a very long time.
And then I see it. The path gives way to a huge lawn, a palatial stone mansion rising out of it, with acres of land behind it and a huge graveled courtyard. Clarke pulls the car all the way around to the front, idling there.
“Mrs. McGregor will be out in a moment,” he tells me, and I suck in a breath, trying not to let my nerves get the better of me.
Ana was sweet to me yesterday, and something tells me that the best way to make my life here easier would be to make friends with her, and by extension, Liam. I’m lonely now, and that’s not likely to get better anytime soon, especially if I can’t go out alone to make friends on my own. Besides that, if Ana likes me, Liam will be inclined to keep advocating for me, along with Niall.
The more people I have in my corner here, the better—and even then, that’s only three.
I see the door to the mansion open, and Ana steps out. She has that same odd gait as she walks, but she looks beautiful—dressed in skinny jeans, riding boots and a short-sleeved, soft looking dark blue sweater. Her blonde hair is up in a high ponytail, and she smiles at Clarke as he opens the door for her and she slides in next to me.
“Isabella!” She leans forward, grabbing my hand as she kisses me lightly on the cheek. “I’m so happy we’re doing this. I haven’t been out of the house in so long—not since well before Brigit was born. I was on bed-rest for a while, and it wassoboring. There’s only so many shows you can catch up on and books to read, right?”
I smile and nod, not entirely sure of what to say. Niall had mentioned that Ana was quiet and somewhat fragile, nervous around new people, and not to expect instant friendship. But this woman seems bubbly and gregarious, and I don’t quite know how to respond.
“Are you alright? Did you not sleep well?” She looks at me with a tiny frown line between her eyes, and I bite my lip nervously.
“No, I—well—” I feel awkward, unsure of how to carry the conversation forward. Elena was my best friend at home, primarily because we didn’t meet other people. My father kept us at home, sheltered. I met the daughters of other families when we got together with them, but that’s not exactly the basis for a deep friendship. “I just heard you were shy, is all. But you don’t seem shy.”
Ana laughs, a little self-consciously, tucking a loose piece of cornsilk-fine blonde hair behind her ear. “I wasn’t always. Things have been…hard, for a while. My pregnancy wasn’t easy, for a lot of reasons. My best friend lives far away from me. I have Liam, but things still get lonely, you know? But since I had Brigit, everything has felt better. It feels like a weight lifted off of me. Like a fresh start. And I’m so happy that you’re here, because maybe we can be friends. You’re Niall’s wife, after all, and he and Liam are so close. It just feels right.”
My chest tightens a little at that. I don’t want to let her down, she seems so sweet and eager, but I don’t want to lead her on either. “Niall married me to get me out of trouble,” I say carefully, not quite able to meet her eyes. “He doesn’t intend for it to last.”
Ana smiles gently, patting my hand. “I know. Liam told me about the whole situation. But you’re still the mother of Niall’s child. Whatever else happens, you’ll be in his life because of that. And things can change. Nothing is over until it’s over.”
“I wish I could believe that.” I glance over at her. “He’s been very clear about what he wants this to be.”
“It wasn’t easy for Liam and I, either,” Ana says softly. “But love has a way of overcoming obstacles. I can tell from the way you and Niall look at each other that there’s love there. He doesn’t let you see it, but when you’re not looking—”
I glance over at her sharply, expectantly, my heart thudding in my chest as I wait for her to finish the sentence.
“He looks at you like he wishes things could be different,” Ana says, sympathy in her eyes. “I’m not trying to give you false hope, Isabella. It might not work out. But you’re still married for now. Don’t give up hope entirely.”
